


Unexpected Consequences

by Dellessa



Series: Unforeseeable [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mech Preg, Multi, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13945088#t13945088</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bluestreak was scared. It was a paralysing fear. He had never expected the Decepticons to defeat them, not and still be alive to see it. And yet he was here, standing in line with a group of Autobots in the the internment camp. A decacycle ago he had watched he creators being lead away by Soundwave. He hoped that Jazz and Prowl were fine. He didn’t know what kind of horrors the telepath would inflict on them, but he could imagine. 

It had not left his recharge easy. It had been filled with...nightmares of his creators both dying at Soundwave’s hands, and yet he knew they were both alive. The creation bond was still intact. 

He was snapped out of his daydreaming by the gunmetal grey behemoth stopped in front of him and watched him through narrowed optics. 

The slag-maker himself. 

“Bluestreak, isn’t it?” 

Jazz had told him to cooperate. Do whatever he could to stay alive and clip out at the first chance he could. He didn’t know where in the universe they could run to now, or how he would escape from Megatron himself. He hoped the mech would move on. “Yes. I’m Bluestreak.” 

The warlord reached up, tilting Bluestreak’s helm up with a single finger. “Your creators had more than one sparkling, didn’t they?” 

No. He didn’t want to talk about this. “Seven, sir. They had seven.” 

“Quite a large family even in peacetime.” 

“If you say so, sir.” 

Jazz had said to survive at all costs. It was still all he could do not to bolt as Megatron reached forward and snapped a leash to the collar around Bluestreak’s neck. 

Survive at all costs. 

He found himself stepping forward, and following Megatron. They didn’t leave though. They walked along the line, Megatron occasionally stopping to get a closer look at a mech. Bluestreak could not meet any of their gazes. He was mortified, and his spark whirled madly. 

They finally stopped, longer than the other times. Megatron talked to an aerial. Bluestreak glanced up, and watched the mech hook a second leash on Skydive’s collar. His brother’s looked horrified, and stared at Bluestreak as they walked away. 

Bluestreak tried to remember to vent as they walked away from the detention center and into a transport. His spark felt like it was going to stop spinning as they stepped inside. Megatron loomed over them both, watching them with glittering, red optics. 

“Sit. I take it you understand why you are both here.” 

Skydive looked up at the mech sullenly, “We are your slaves.” 

Megatron made a rumbling sound like a growl, “This is not my choice. I started this war to prevent things like this from happening. Unfortunately...it has become a necessary evil. Our numbers are too low, and giving you your freedom you would have our species die out. I cannot allow that to happen.” 

Bluestreak took in what the mech said, looking horrified at the implications. “You e-expect us to carry for you?” 

“I do. You will.”

The trip was not long, much to Bluestreak’s relief. Megatron’s field pulsed out invasively, leaving him with a processor ache, and Skydive’s silence did not help. The mech’s sullen mood radiated through his field hitting Bluestreak like a wall. 

Bluestreak would have bounded out the door if he had not been leashed. He ended up walking sedately beside Megatron as they walked from the transport into a towering building. Bluestreak was not sure where they were. There had been no window in the transport, and his location software had been long since been purged. Bluestreak would have guessed it was New Iacon though, Megatron’s new capital. They had built and repaired more buildings than Bluestreak would have thought since the short time since the ‘Con’s victory. 

“Come along, I don’t have all day,” Megatron said, leading them both through the hallway. The mechs milling about all stopped, and saluted the warlord. 

Bluestreak heard ‘All hail Megatron’ from every one of those mechs. It grated on his audials. They all seemed in awe of this mech. Bluestreak could only think of Optimus’ greyed husk, and his creators being taken away. 

Finally they were led to a final room, that could only be Megatron’s berthroom. It was large, but not as opulent as Bluestreak would have assumed. Perhaps even austere. There was no trophies, no deactivated grey husks mounted to the wall, no weapons, or energon splatter. It was clean, neat and reeked of normality. 

“You may read any of the data pads,” Megatron said, motioning towards the shelving units pushed against one wall. “The comm system is off limits. You are not to leave this room. Do you understand me?” 

“We understand,” Skydive said, finally speaking up. He walked up to the datapad storage and pulled out a random pad. 

Bluestreak knew better to try either the door or the comm system. He knew that both would be keyed to Megatron’s CNA. They had had similar systems in the ark. 

“Good, I don’t have time to sparkling sit you.” 

Bluestreak nodded, and Skydive was already crossing the room and shuffling through the datapads. Bluestreak couldn’t help feel sorry for him. He had been so very quiet since Silverbolt was taken away. He couldn't blame him. 

Megatron watched them for a few kliks before heading back the way he had came. It was a relief, and a surprise when Megatron left them. It was...strange. 

Bluestreak tried not to worry about what was to come. What would be expected of him. He needed to survive. He kept telling himself that and hoped he would. 

“Skydive?”

The flier stopped, and looked back at him, “What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Never. I will never be okay.”

OoOoOoOo

Skydive was deep in recharge, curled up on the sofa sitting in front of the vidscreen. It was cushioned, and far nicer than any of the recharge slabs in the internment camp.

Bluestreak was waiting though. Inwardly he was terrified, but he refused to let the hulking beast see that. 

“How do you want me?” He said, with far more bravado than he felt. He wanted it over with. The mech would take him whether he wanted it or not, and he would much rather it be on his own terms. 

Megatron barked a laugh, “That eager for it?”

“Oh, I am,” Bluestreak said, doorwings quivering with agitation. 

Crimson optics bore into him and Bluestreak took a step back, fear running through him. He tried to hide it, but Megatron was not fooled. 

“Come then,” Megatron said, motioning towards the berthroom. 

Bluestreak tried not to shake, and pulled his field in as far as he could, knowing it would betray him. He climbed onto the berth, feeling more uncertain by the moment. “H-how---”

“On you hands and knees,” camed the rumbled reply. 

Bluestreak trembled, in spite of himself, and the squeaked in a most undignified way when he was mech handled to the edge of the berth. He shut his optics tight, knowing the mech would shove into him, ripping his way through, but the pain never came, nor the telltale sound of an interface panel opening. 

Bluestreak heard a clang behind him, and he felt hand settle on his hips, pulling him back. Megatron nuzzled Bluestreak’s interface panel, glossa flicking out, flitting across the seams. A whimper escaped Bluestreak’s vocalizer before he could stop himself. This was the farthest thing from what he was expecting, and he simply did not know HOW to react. 

Megatron purred, the vibration tripping through Bluestreak’s circuits and making the panel snap open. He gripped the meshes, gasping and mewling as Megatron’s glossa seemed to find each and every node...then proceeded to tease it until Bluestreak thought he was going to offline.

Bluestreak moaned, it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Megatron wasn’t supposed to get him all revved up. His processor spun. He did not comprehend any of it. Each flick of Megatron’s glossa brought him closer until an overload washed through him, knocking him offline. 

He slumped against the berth, and when he awoke he was on his back. Megatron loomed over him for a moment before leaning in and catching Bluestreak’s lips against his own. He could taste his own lubricant on Megatron’s lips. 

Megatron kissed him carefully, slowly. Languidly. 

Much to Bluestreak’s consternation he found himself kissing the mech back, arching into his touch. Megatron’s hands wandered down, dipping between armour gaps, and pulling on sensitive wires. Bluestreak squirmed beneath him, aroused and confused. 

He vented heavily, trying to dispel the rising heat. “Please, please, please!” he found himself babbling, and arching up to rub against Megatron. 

The large mech above him chuckled, clearly amused. “Overload for me,” Megatron commanded. Bluestreak arched and screamed as the overload ripped through his circuits for the second time.

OoOoOoOo

Skydive’s wings flicked nervously as he sat pretending to read. Bluestreak wasn’t fooled. He didn’t miss the way the mech was watching him.

“What’s wrong?” Bluestreak finally said, “You’ve been staring at me all orn. Did I do something wrong?”

Skydive flicked his wings and Bluestreak could not help but echo the gesture, “Why do you let him do that to you?” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Who exactly----” 

“Megatron,” Skydive said. 

Bluestreak tilted his helm to the side and considered the answer, he didn’t have one. He was ashamed at his behavior, and the way his valve clenched at the thought of Megatron taking him again. “I don’t know...he hasn’t hurt us, has he. And he’s treated me well. I mean it wasn’t like he forced me. He was gentle, and...just about one of the best frags I’ve ever had. It was just amazing. I don’t know why you are complaining about. He’s focused on me so he hasn’t been bothering you. I would think that would make you happy. You don’t want him anyway.” 

Skydive stared, “Blue...that isn’t what I meant. I’m just worried about you.” 

“Don’t be. I’m fine. There is nothing wrong. I’m fine. I swear I am. I just...Dive...there is nothing left for us. We can keep fighting, but what is it going to get us? Offlined? I’m tired. I just...I just don’t...” 

Skydive closed the distance between them, pulling Bluestreak close. The smaller bot whimpered, clinging. “I know. I...I don’t know what to do either. I miss my brothers. I’m so scared for them.” 

“I’m scared for my creators. Soundwave has them. I---I don’t know what will happen to them. He could be reformatting them for all I know.” 

“Maybe they are fine. Maybe he won’t hurt them,” Skydive whispered. “Maybe we will all be okay. M-megatron did say he didn’t not believe in this.” 

“Maybe he will just offline us,” Bluestreak said dully. 

“I don’t think so,” Skydive said. “They need sparklings. They need us. Sometimes...sometimes I can feel my brothers. E-even S-silverbolt. He’s safe. Sometimes he even feels happy. I-I guess Blastoff is not hurting him. It doesn’t feel like it.”

Bluestreak cuddled against him, “Good...I’m glad. I know you’ve been fretting. Megatron noticed.” 

“I’m sure. Not like I hide it well.” 

“You don’t,” Bluestreak agreed, relaxing against Skydive. “Sometimes...sometimes I still can’t believe this has happened, but there it is, and we are here. And everything in the world is wrong. I miss my creators.” he didn’t bother hiding the whimper. 

Skydive stroked his spinal strut, “I know.”

OoOoOoOo

Megatron’s hand was heavy on Bluestreak’s shoulder and Skydive’s wing. “I know you have been worrying about your kin. I hope this will help,” the mech rumbled as they waited on the landing pad.  
Bluestreak watched his creators step out once the craft had landed. Skydive could tell it was all he could do not to run to them. His wings quivered, until the heavy weight was lifted and Megatron gave him a push forward. Bluestreak ran, flinging himself at Prowl and Jazz.

Skydive held back, “What are you playing at?” 

“I take care what is mine,” Megatron said. 

“I can see that. It’s a pretty cage.” 

“It doesn’t have to be a cage. One day you will be my consorts. I do not agree with this. I do not agree with slavery, and I will end it, but you must understand that I cannot let you go.” 

Skydive stiffened, “Excuse me if I have trouble believing that. You have taken me away from my brothers...and are trying to force a sparkling on me and Blue. Words aren’t enough, my Lord.” Stydive made the word sound like an insult rather than a sign of submission. 

Megatron laughed, the sound rumbling across Skydive’s plating, “I don’t expect you to just fold over. You both have strong wills. It is why I chose you.” 

Skydive flicked a wing, “I’d rather you had not.” 

“If you hadn’t been taken by me you would have been by someone else. Our species will die without all of us. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. We all must make the most of it, there is no one that can be spare from this endeavour. No one able, and you my dear spark are.” 

Skydive shivered, “You really believe that?” 

“I do.” 

Skydive flicked his wing again, a dismissive motion. He turned and watched Bluestreak and his creators. They held on tight to each other, ignoring Soundwave who hovered. “They seem well enough. I hope my brothers are the same.”

“They are. I will arrange a meeting once they are settled in their new homes.” 

“That is so kind of you,” Skydive murmured, sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

Megatron snorted, “I will win you over. Eventually.” 

“I will believe it when I see it.” 

Megatron’s hand on Skydive’s wing tightened, “You will.” He pulled the flier close, and loomed over him, bringing their faces together for a surprisingly gentle kiss. Skydive trembled, and pushed the mech away. Surprisingly Megatron let him.

OoOoOoOo

Megatron had taken to taken to bringing them wherever he went. The parties were by far Bluestreak’s least favoured activity. He stayed as close to Megatron, not trusting the other Cons not to hurt him. It usually worked.

Usually. 

Somehow he got separated in the crowd. He looked up, his doorwings quivering at the wall of black plating. He backed away, whimpering as he was seemingly herded into a deserted room. 

“What do we have here?” The large mech purred. Vortex. It was Vortex. He had been warned by both Prowl and Jazz to stay out of this mech’s reach at all costs. 

“Stay away from me! M-megatron will find me...and he will be mad.” 

Vortex snorted, “If he really cared he wouldn't have left you alone. He is always harping about how we need to create more sparklings. Maybe I should just start with you little mech. Bet your valve is nice and tight.”

Bluestreak froze, panting in fear. He didn’t have anything to defend himself with. No sniper rifle. No energon blade. The mech outweighed him. “Please.”

“I think you can beg better than that.” 

“Please don’t hurt me. Please.” 

“Mmmmm....better.” 

Bluestreak’s vents stuttered when the rotarymech got closer, herding him further into the room and against the wall. He turned to run but the mech caught him easily, twisting his doorwing out of socket. Bluestreak screamed, thrashing in the mech’s hold. 

“Your screams are even better,” Vortex purred, pushing his claws between gaps in Bluestreaks armour. “He doesn’t deserve a treat like you. Frag, I can just imagine suspending you up for anyone to use. It would be hot.” 

The growl behind him was the only warning he had before Megatron was ripping Vortex away and flinging the mech across the room. 

Bluestreak cowered until he was pulled into Skydive’s arms. The flier had stormed into the room after Megatron, wings high in a threat display. They both watched Megatron pound on the mech, until his was in stasis. 

Skydive watched impassively, his field soothing Bluestreak until Megatron crossed the room, pulling Bluestreak into his own arms, and checking over his armour for injury. “Bluestreak, are you injured?” 

Bluestreak shook his helm, still trembling as he was pulled into Megatron’s arms. “No,” his reply came, muffled against the warlords armor. his optics pooled with coolant. “I’m fine. I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” 

“Little liar.” Megatron scooped him up, carrying him through the compound with Skydive trailing behind. The mech looked thoughtful. 

“Where are we going?” Skydive finally asked, wondering about the mech they had left unconscious.

“The medbay,” Megatron growled. 

Hook looked surprised when the warlord stomped in, growling loud enough to make even the arrogant medic flinch. “Scan him now.” 

The medic flinched again, and jumped to do just that, “His wing is dislocated, let me give him something to ease the pain and then I will pop it back into place.” 

The seemed to be the right thing to say, as Megatron calmed down some and let Hook do his work. He gave Bluestreak a sedative, and finally put the dislocated doorwing back into place. Bluestreak was groggy but still awake as Hook checked him over for any other injuries. 

“I am finished, my lord. You can take him from the medbay whenever you see fit.” 

Skydive moved close, hugging the smaller mech to his chestplates as Megatron commed the mechs on duty to retrieve Vortex and take him to the brig. 

There was no mechs in the hall when they made their way back to their rooms. Bluestreak curled in the warlords arms, was half dosing. The sedative that Hook had given him left him calm and uncharacteristically quiet. 

Megatron was careful when he sat the mech down on their berth, and looked surprised when Bluestreak clung to him. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. He will come back.” 

Megatron stretched out on the berth, pulling the quivering Praxian against him.   
Skydive watched them for several breems before crawling across the berth and curling up against them. “It will be okay, Blue.”

OoOoOoOo

Bluestreak was still distraught the next sol. Skydive was not surprised. Megatron had called for Hook again in the morning, and eventually sent for Bluestreak’s creators to come to comfort the young mech.

They had finally arrived late into the night cycle, and Hook had eventually gave Bluestreak a stronger sedative. The mech was finally in recharge when Megatron left and Skydive was forced to follow. Megatron could miss many things, but he would not tolerate missing the morning audiences. There were disputes to be solved, and decisions to be made. 

There was some mech being brought up on charges for beating a slave that morning. Motormaster glared defiantly at Megatron as the warlord came into the audience chamber. Skydive followed slowly behind, his spark clenched as he caught sight of Red Alert. The mech cringed away, looking smaller than normal. 

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Megatron barker.

“He’s my fragging property. He got mouthy. I will fragging well do what I want to my property.” 

“He was given to you on my sufferance. They are not to be abused. This is Law,” Megatron rumbled, optics narrowing dangerously. 

Motormaster struggled against the bonds. 

“You have abused the gift I have given you. It will be taken away, and you will never be able to have another slave again. Take him to the brig,” he said, addressing the guards.

Motormaster roared, and struggled, but the guards removed him from the room all the same. 

Red Alert cowered, as attention focused on him. 

“Soundwave, take custody of this slave. I think that we need to review the criteria for slave owners.” Megatron’s optics slid across the gathering, and landed on Skydive. “You will help him with the criteria, and interview the potential owners.” 

Skydive’s optics widened, “Master?” 

“I have faith you can do this.” 

Skydive nodded, and frowned. He wondered when Megatron’s approval had became important. “I will do my best, Master.” Still the title felt like it was going to stick in his mouth. It came out anyway. 

“I know you will.” 

Skydive’s frown deepened. He didn’t want the praise. He hurried away, following after Soundwave. He couldn’t feel surprised when he realized the mech had already been gathering pertinent information. 

Soundwave waited patiently as Skydive examined all of the information he had collected on mech’s who were still looking for breeders. The long list astonished him. “Do all of these mechs want...sparklings.” 

“Affirmative: Lower ranking bots have not all been awarded slaves. Soundwave: urged Megatron to streamline process. Staff: needed. Interviews: required. Officials: needed to check up on slaves.” 

Skydive stared, “You really believe that?” 

“Affirmative.” 

“So...what mech has Inferno? Not sure if you were aware, but they were nearly bonded. They didn’t because of...well the war. Red Alert is a paranoid one. And he really would do better with Inferno.” 

Soundwave pushed a file at him, “Designation: Knock Out. Bonded: Breakdown.” 

Skydive took the datapad and flicked through it. “He’s a medic then?”

“Affirmative.” 

“They would actually be a good match for Red Alert...if they are willing to take him. He is glitched. He needs a medic to keep him functioning comfortable.” 

“Assessment: correct. Soundwave: will contact Knock Out.” 

“What will happen to Red Alert until then?” 

“Soundwave: will take custody until he is placed.”

“Ah....I see. Will you take care of him? Please? He’s been hurt.” 

“Soundwave: knows.” 

Skydive’s wings flicked in an unsure manner. “Do you...want my help? For other placements? We could work out some kind of system. Maybe a database. I know there are a lot of mechs in the detention centers still.” 

“Affirmative. Soundwave will make necessary arrangement with Lord Megatron.” 

Skydive’s wings fluttered. At least he would be helping in some way. “Thank you.”

OoOoOoOo

Decacycles later Skydive was still surprised at the freedom that Megatron had allowed him. He had been working with Soundwave and he and the mech had put together legislation to protect the Autobot slaves, and more surprisingly Megatron had thrown in his whole-sparked support.

As grateful as Skydive was it left him conflicted. He did not want to respect Megatron, or feel thankful to him...and yet he did. 

It was all forgotten as he watched Red Alert. The mech was finally well enough to place him in a new home. He was practically quivering with excitement at the thought of seeing Inferno again. 

“He will be here? Right? They will bring him with them?” 

“Yes, Red, he will. I promise. You need to calm down. We don’t want you glitching.”

Red Alert quivered, “We don’t. They will keep me longer if I do!” 

Skydive nodded, not surprised when Red Alert jumped up the moment Inferno entered the door and flung himself at the larger mech. 

“Inferno! I missed you so much. I was so scared I’d never see you again. I missed you so much,” Red babbled.

“I missed you too,” Inferno said holding the smaller bot tightly. 

Skydive took that moment to watch the two Cons that came in behind Inferno. One was a shiney racer, and the other a large mech, one of the Stunticons. They both looked interested enough in the display. Skydive held back and watched Soundwave move to address the two. 

“Knock Out: will report with Red Alert to medical facilities every two deca-cycle. Requirement: Mandatory. Slave: history of abuse.” 

The red mech nodded, “I’m well aware of Lord Megatron’s mandates. Every two decacycles for the first Vorn. I know the drill. You know we are in favour of those mandates. Frag I’m tired of seeing them bring in carriers halfway offlined. It’s not helping any of us.” 

“Affirmative.” Soundwave agreed solemnly.

OoOoOoOo

Skydive did not protest when Jazz pushed the cube of highgrade into his hand. He had never been one for getting overcharged, but the victory that he had achieved with Soundwave was well worth celebrating. Soundwave didn’t make a show of protest either, but downed the first cube in one gulp and accepted another from Jazz.

“Yah both did a good job of this. Yah know,” Jazz said, flinging his arm around both of their shoulders. “Ah bet Blue is all kinds of proud of yah.” 

“Bluestreak? I don’t know. We don’t talk much...I guess.” 

Prowl snorted, “I can assure you, the only thing we hear from our bitty these days it Megatron this, Skydive that. You have made an impression.” 

Skydive flushed, “I---I guess.” He downed his drink, and winced inwardly at the burn of it. “He likes me?” 

“Pffft, does Sunstreaker like wax?” Jazz said, winking. “Pretty sure ole bucket head is pretty fond ah yah too.” 

“Jazz: disrespectful.” 

“Oh, Sounders, yah wouldn't love me any other way.” 

Soundwave pulled a face, scowling at Jazz. He face was surprisingly expressive without his mask. “Jazz: naughty.” 

Jazz purred, sidling up to the bigger mech, “Oh? I am? Yah think so too, Prowler?” 

“When aren’t you?” the Praxian laughed. He grabbed both of their hands and pulled them to the berthroom. 

Skydive stared, optics widening. This he did not want to witness. He got up, staggering towards the door. Thoughts about what Jazz had said were at the top of his processor once he staggered back to Megatron’s suite of rooms. 

Bluestreak was sprawled on the berth his doorwings fluttering. He was reading a datapad when Skydive came stumbling in. Skydive pulled the datapad out of Bluestreak’s hands, dropping it off the side of the berth. He pushed Bluestreak down on the berth, kissing the little mech on the spot between his doorwings as he had seen Megatron do, with much the same result. Bluestreak mewed and arched beneath him, pressing into his touch. His wings fluttered happily. 

Skydive fumbled, he had never done this before. had never seen anyone but Megatron and Bluestreak. That had embarrassed him endlessly. Bluestreak purred happily beneath him, content with the kisses and touches, inwardly Skydive fumbled with the command to open his interface panel. It wasn’t exactly something he had spent a lot of time contemplating. He had, accidently, removed his own spike seal, and it had hurt enough that he had not thought of doing the same to his valve. 

“Skydive? Don’t stop!” Bluestreak’s panel snapped open with an audible pop. “Please, I’ve wanted this.” 

Skydive groaned, lining up, and pressing into the warm, wet valve. His vents stuttered and he finally understood most mech’s obsessions with this. Bluestreak rippled about him, working more of the spike in him. It was all Skydive could do not to collapse into a puddle. It felt...amazing. He rolled his hips, pulling nearly all the way out, and pressing back in. Even better. 

He froze when he heard steps behind them, he turned, and looked back to see Megatron. His spark froze in his chest, and he would have taken off running had Bluestreak not moaned beneath him, rocking back into him. 

“Don’t stop, Dive. Please. More.” 

“Mmmm...don’t stop on account to me,” Megatron rumbled, his ruby optics fixed on the mechs on his berth. He pulled the seat from the living area, and turned it to face the berth. 

Skydive looked away, and looked down at Bluestreak’s back. The little mech wiggled, and begged beneath him until he started to move again. He could almost ignore the fact that the warlord was watching them...almost. 

Charge built, and washed over the both of them. He rolled to the side, and managed not to land on Bluestreak. 

Megatron purred, getting up from his seat and pacing closer, “Ride him Bluestreak. Show him how wonderful it can feel.” 

The little mech wasted little time in pushing him onto his back, and climbing onto his spike. Bluestreak rode it happily, doorwings fluttering in pleasure. Skydive could only look up at him, dazed as pleasure shot through his frame. Bluestreak moved about him, his valve rippling around the spike until he was dragging whimpers and moans from Skydive. 

“He is beautiful. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long, and now you don’t have to be afraid to join us,” Bluestreak said happily, completely oblivious to how out of his processor Skydive was. 

Skydive rode out the wave of pleasure until finally it all went blissfully black.

OoOoOoOo

Skydive’s processor pounded. It was only a feeling he had felt a few times in his existence, and it was not something he enjoyed. He tried to move, and found himself wedged between two mechs. Bluestreak on one side, and Megatron on the other. Both had a tight grip on him and he settled back in knowing he would not be moving for a while. He shifted, and to his horror discovered he was still buried inside of Bluestreak. He squirmed enough to make Megatron stir.

The gunmetal grey mech nuzzled him, finger’s moving down his chassis until they brushed against Skydive’s valve, and the seal covering it. Megatron’s field flared out, echoing with surprise. 

“Oh, little mech. I had no idea.” 

Skydive moaned, shifting as Bluestreak’s valve tightened around him reflexively. Megatron rubbed at the seal, claws perforating it, and finally ripping it away in a sharp move. It stung, worse than the spike seal had. But the sting was soon driven away as Megatron tweaked the nodes on the exterior of the rim first, and the inside. 

He panted, pushing into the touch, groaning with the fingers were replaced by something else. Megatron rocked into him slowly, pushing him into Bluestreak with each slow thrust. 

Bluestreak moaned softly as he came online. “Oh, that feels wonderful,” he moaned, rolling his hips back into each thrust. “Dive! Ohprimusthatfeels so good.” 

Skydive panted, feeling overheated. he held onto Bluestreak, unable to do much else as Megatron pushed him slowly towards overload. It felt entirely different than the first time with Bluestreak. He only had a hazy recollection of that. It was shameful. He had taken advantage of the mech! 

“This isn’t right,” he whimpered, and gasped as the overload roared through his circuits. He fell back, shocked by the aftershoks that rippled through him. 

Bluestreak wiggled turning in his arms, and clung to him tightly. “Don’t say that. It is the most right thing ever, Dive. I’ve waited so long for you.” Skydive didn’t know how to argue with the kiss Bluestreak planted on his lips, or the possessive way Megatron held onto him. He was lost.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2:

Bluestreak wiggled on the medical berth. He was so excited and he could barely contain it. “I am, aren’t I. I know I am. I’ve been feeling the oddest fluttering against my spark. We’ve been trying. So...I’m not imagining it. I can’t be. Ratchet?” Bluestreak whined. 

Ratchet hovered, looking over Hook’s shoulder at the medical pad the mech was holding. Hook swatted at him, “I’m checking the coding, stop it.” 

“That means I am...oh PRIMUS I’M SO LUCKY!” Bluestreak squealed. 

Hook grunted, “You are, and it looks like it was kindled by the flier, but it should get a lot of our lords coding...judging by what is in your gestation tank. It will be several decacycles before the sparklings frame will begin to be constructed though, and several more before it moves down into your gestation tank. You must be very careful.” 

“I will be. I will be the most careful mech ever,” Bluestreak purred. “I can’t wait to tell them. I’m so excited. i’ve always wanted to be a creator. Always. Ever since I was a bitty myself.”

Hook snorted, “His lordship will be here to collect you soon. Ratchet, get the fuel supplements ready. Better prepare the one for flight frames just to be on the safeside. I’m not entirely sure what it will end up being yet.” 

“I take it you have good news?” Megatron asked gruffly as he came striding into the room. 

Bluestreak squealed again, flinging himself at the large mech, expecting to be caught. Megatron did not disappoint, and laughed when Bluestreak clung to him like a space barnacle. “We are going to have a bitty. A BITTY! I’m so excited!” He leaned forward, kissing the warlord. 

“Good news indeed,” Megatron purred, stealing a kiss of his own.

OoOoOoOo

“Is something wrong?” Skydive asked, “Jazz said he heard you were in the medbay.” Skydive wrung his hands nervously. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No...I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt. I went to see the medics for an entirely different reason. I’ve felt kinda odd. A tickle in my spark. And I thought...well...I thought I might be carrying, and guess what? I am! We are having a bitty.” 

“What? I think I heard you wrong.” 

“We’re having a sparkling,” Bluestreak said excitedly, and then made a mewl of dismay as Skydive crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.

Bluestreak let out a startled chiirup and was on the comm to a medic as soon as he kneeled to the floor. “Dive! Dive, Are you okay?” 

“Mmmm...what am I doing on the floor?” Skydive asked when he finally rebooted, and looked even more confused when Ratchet rushed into the room. 

“What happened? Hook said to get over here...” 

“I told Skydive I was carrying and he just fell to the floor,” Bluestreak said, looking pained. 

Ratchet snorted, but pulled out a med pad and plugged it into Skydive before the mech could protest, “He’s fine, it was just a shock. You need to keep yourself calm, Bluestreak. Have you taken the supplements?” 

“Yes,” Bluestreak said dutifully. “I have and I will.” 

Skydive sat up, looking flustered, “You are really...you know....?”

“I am, I really am,” Bluestreak said, throwing himself at Skydive and knocking them both back to the floor. 

Ratchet got up, shaking his helm. “I’ll see you in a couple cycles, Blue. Try not to make anyone else glitch.”

“I make no promises,” Bluestreak murmured, and kissed Skydive senseless.

Ratchet left them with a roll of his optics and a shake of his head. “Younglings.” 

Skydive still looked dazed when the kiss ended. “Are you sure?” 

“Completely,” Bluestreak giggle, straddling Skydive’s lap, he ground their panels together making Skydive groan. “I think you should donate more fluids. We want out sparkling to be strong.” 

Skydive moaned, and found he was not adverse to that idea at all. His panel snapped open, and he pushed up into Bluestreak’s warmth. It felt different from this angle, but just as nice. He let Bluestreak set the pace. 

Bluestreak moved above him, making the most delicious noises.

OoOoOoOo

Megatron was slowly transitioning them to the roles of consorts, and Skydive was not against that any longer. He even accepted the fact that they would...eventually...sparkbond. The thought made him nervous, but it did not hold the distaste that it might have once held. 

Skydive was still working with Soundwave to set up the network to place the Autobots and Cons together, and a safety network for the Autobots. He was helping some mecha move from being a slave to a full partner. It was satisfying work. 

Bluestreak had found work as well, helping set up sparkling creches in the burgeoning communities. It was a great success. As was the gathering going on around them. Skydive nursed the cube in his hand, well aware of his limit these days. 

Bluestreak moved about on Megatron’s arm, chatting up mechs like the social butterfly he was. It made Skydive’s spark flutter to watch them. Bluestreak was just barely showing. The smallest of bumps graced his midsection. Hook seemed confident the sparkling would exhibit Praxian coding. While Skydive had been hoping for a flier the idea of a small version of Bluestreak was also very appealing. 

“Credit for your thoughts?” Silverbolt asked as he walked up. 

“Mmmm...just thinking how happy I am. It’s kinda...odd,” Skydive said. “I didn’t expect things to fall out like this.” 

“None of us did,” his brother said. 

Skydive turned watching Megatron and Bluestreak, and then stiffened as he watched two mechs run into the room and towards them. Wildrider and Drag Strip. The both pulled weapons, and leveled them at Megatron and Bluestreak. Megatron moved fast, but not fast enough to jerk Bluestreak out of the way completely. The blast hit the small bot, and he cried out in pain. 

Skydive was running before he knew what he was doing he attacked Drag Strip, pulling plating off of the mech and digging for energon lines in his protoform. He howled insensibly. It was a visceral reaction. They had hurt his mate. Hurt his sparkling. He did not come back to himself until the mech fell dead at his feet. 

Megatron was equally clattered with energon, Wildrider nearly torn in half at his peds. 

He scooped Bluestreak up, and was already running out the door before Skydive had even stoop up. 

“What the frag just happened?” Jazz asked, running up and following Skydive out the door. Skydive had not even realized Bluestreak’s creators had been attending. Prowl looked equally agitated and he walked up, wings flared wide. 

“I---Wildrider...and Drag Strip---oh----oh frag. I tore him apart. They must have been upset about Motormaster. Megatron threw him in the brig. Oh, frag. This is all my fault.”

Prowl’s wings flicked in a dismissive motion, “You did not make the mechs act in such a way. Take us to our creation. Now.” 

“Fine, follow me.”

OoOoOoOo

Megatron was pacing the waiting area when they arrived. “How is he?” Prowl demanded.

“Broken wing, from the fall...and...he was hit in the chest. They are trying to stabilize him. THe sparkling is still hanging on, but it it becomes too much of a strain on his spark...they will terminate it.” 

Jazz frowned, “That bad?”

“If it is a choice between the two they will save Bluestreak. That is not a matter of discussion.” 

“Good,” Prowl said. “We are glad...we are just...thank you.” 

Megatron gave him a curt nod, “He is a good spark. I am sorry so many mechs like him were dragged into the war.” 

Prowl’s doorwings flicked dismissively. He only turned when Soundwave strolled in. “Condition: Bluestreak?” 

“They are workin’ on him,” Jazz said, his voice popping with static. 

A joor later Hook, and Ratchet finally came out of the surgery room. “He’s stable. And...so is the sparkling for now. We need to keep him here to monitor his progress I am afraid. We were able to reconstruct the joint of his right doorwing. It was...shattered by the fall. We will not be able to realign it until the welds heal, I am afraid.” 

Megatron did not look happy, but he nodded as if expecting such a verdict. “He will heal, as we all must.” 

Skydive moved close enough to Megatron to touch him. “We will just have to be strong for him.” 

The mech’s crimson optics bore into him, “We will. I think it is time then. We will join our sparks tonight, and bring Bluestreak into the bond when he is strong enough again. I will not allow something like this to happen again ever.” 

Skydive’s wings twitched in ascent.

OoOoOoOo

Bluestreak moaned in pain, and tried to move but found himself unable to. 

“Blue?” a voice beside him said. “Sweetspark,” a voice asked. 

Bluestreak look up, but he visual sensors felt scrambled. He had to reboot them twice before he could make out what was before him. “Skydive? What happened? Where am I? The b-bitlet....” 

“It’s okay, Blue. You’ve been sedated for a while.” 

“I c-can’t feel the s-sparkling. Where is my sparkling?” 

“Shhhhh....it’s okay. They moved him to a growth tank. They kept you in stasis until he was big enough to transfer. They were trying to keep your spark from straining itself,” Skydive whispered. “He is beautiful.”

“Can I see?” 

“Soon,” Skydive promised. “You should rest now. Ratchet said he would be back in a bit, and I’m sure he will want to scan you. You had us all worried, brightspark.” 

“I can’t feel my wings.” 

“Hook turned off the pain sensors. They had to reconstruct the joint, and they just reset them last sol. I don’t think you would want to feel them right now,” Skydive said, taking Bluestreak’s hand in his own. 

“I feel blind,” Bluestreak whimpered. 

“I know, but it will pass.” 

“How is our patient doing today?” Ratchet asked, walking in. 

“I feel like slag,” Bluestreak whimpered. 

“Let me get a reading then,” he said, jacking in. Bluestreak sat back, offlined his optics. “Looks good. I will turn the sensors on in a sol. It won’t feel good, but it will be manageable.” 

“Can I see the bitlet? Please?” 

“He’s in a growth tank it cannot be moved, but you should be well enough to go see him next sol. I’m sorry, you really need more rest and to avoid stressing out the joint. I don’t want to have to start all over again.” 

“I don’t want you too either,” Bluestreak said emphatically.

OoOoOoOo

It was two sols before Bluestreak had strength enough to walk through the medbay, and in the end Megatron ended up carrying him into the room with the growth tank. He stared at the tiny little Praxian in the tank. It was smaller than he imagined it would be, and curled around itself as if it was still in the gestation tank. 

“He’s so small,” Bluestreak murmured against the warmth of Megatron’s sparkplates. 

“He is, but he is strong. Otherwise his spark would have snuffed out long ago.” 

“He...his armour is different,” Bluestreak said, tilting his helm to the side. The colour seemed fluid, like the brightest of fire opals. “Opalescent. It’s rare. My creator’s carrier had armour like that. It is said to be blessed.” 

“If I believed in such a thing I might agree,” Megatron said, “He has been...lucky.” 

“Has Skydive seen him?” 

“Every sol,” Megatron said, petting his plating. “He has missed you, and worried about you both. I wish you could feel it, but you will soon enough. He is eager to bring you into our bond.” 

Bluestreak closed his optics, “I want that too.” 

“When you are better.” 

“I feel strong enough now,” Bluestreak said hopefully. 

“No, not yet. You’re spark was damaged from the blast. Hook says it will be some time before it is healed enough for us to try. I will not lose you in a foolhardy attempt to bond too soon,” Megatron said firmly, his grip on Bluestreak tightening, and a growl rose from his chest plates. Bluestreak could feel the anger in his field, but it was not---thankfully---directed at him.

“Eventually then,” Bluestreak murmured, “I want to feel your spark again.” 

He was half in recharge by the time he was carried back to his room in the medbay, Skydive was there and he smiled up at him sleepily.

OoOoOoOo

Bluestreak cradled the tiny sparkling against his chestplates. Prism was small for his age. He was half the size of Skydive’s twins who were two stellar cycles younger. He hoped that Prism would not come to resent them for their station or the fact that they were Megatron’s heirs, but he did not think it was in the mechling’s temperament to do so. 

He was nothing if not sweet. 

Sometimes Bluestreak did worry though. Everyone seemed to dote on the mechling, and Megatron was the worse at spoiling the mechling rusty. As hard as his bondmate’s exterior he had a soft and possibly squishy spot inside his spark where his sparklings...and his mates were concerned. 

“You look happy,” Skydive said, squinting at his mech. 

“I am,” Bluestreak laughed, “Is that really so surprising? You are happy, and so is Megatron.” 

Skydive’s own bitlet’s were curled up on a giant pillow, deep in recharge. It was already clear they would have Megatron’s size and mass, but there was a lot of Skydive in them as well. Dropzone had Skydive’s colouring, but Freefall...was decidedly most like the mech. He was already analytical and curious about everything and anything. 

All three mechlings gave Bluestreak great hope for the future. Their species would survive. And he hoped thrive as well.


End file.
